San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1887-09-15
"And those letters were the letters that
had passed between youg'

H. 'tleis lhAl ilstu pas VI utlWttH Ntl.
he repeated. You had persuaded him TO
return them 20 you, seized at last with some
thought Of me. You succeeded In deceiving
both Of us with your dark eyes and your
soft voice. He must have known you were
engaged TO me, unless indeed he was the
first you duped. | suppose the love of one
man is not enough for a woman. Now you
can have the satisfaction Of knowing that
you have spoiled my lifeP'
In misery and despair wrung my hands.
Colbert, you cannot think so Of mep |
cried.
But he never looked back nor needed and
/ was left alone.
stood still, and stared at a great fern
near me, and noticed how II was seTTated
and how 1t was gemmed with yellow spores.
Sense and feeling must have left me utterly.
For a time that seemed hours | could not
think, could not move; and then a violent
shudder seized me, and sank down on the
little iron chair and burst into miserable
wild food of tears. There was no ray of
hope or help. The more thought Of il all,
the more recognised that nothing could
help me now. Reason and sense were all
on Gilbert's side; there was only love 10
speak for me.
How could expect he should trust me
after what he had seen? | had been betray-
ed, | had been slanered, and | could do
nothing TO save myself. For GwendOline's
sake | could not report what had done;
knew Of no other way to help her. My life
would have been a cheap exchange for her
happiness; but this was worse to bear than
death.
For the rest of that day Gilbert stayed
away from the Grange. When he next
came, would, told myself, plead with
him till he must believe; love must have
power and would convince at last If he
really cared for me, he would not believe
even his eyes before my word; and, If he
did not believe me, would go away and
hide myself for ever, so that he should have
the Grange.
But he did not come The next day note
In his writing was brought to me from the
lodge.
colbert has gone up to London, Uric
says" Annis told me as took the letter
81 suppose only for day or so on business
and he has written to tell you about it.
Living next door, we don't get many love
letters, do we, Viola? So it is as well for
him to seize any opportunity"
drew away from her into the deep win
dow-recess, and with trembling fingers broke
the seal-the Gascoigne seal, a mailed arm;
but no mailed arm could have struck me
heavier blow than the words on the paper
within.
81 have been thinking it all over" be began
fall that has happened, of what you said to
me. You said was unjust and cruel. Per-
baps so. / cannot remember what said" /
could have told him; every word was burned
into my memory. but IL was because low
ed you so well; could not bear the thought
that you were false. l have tried to be more
just. do not think now that you meant TO
be false. believe you would still have mar
ried me, and thought even it was for my
good. to give me the Grange. But it has been
a terrible mistake, Viola / give you your
liberty. thankful that know In time to pre-
vent lifelong misery to both Of us. win not
speak Of Garden; but, if he makes you happy,
Iwil try by-and-by TO forgive him. Do not
imagine grudge you the Grange. II is you
and you alone grudge ! shall rever inter
fere with you perhaps l shall never see you
again. scarcely know yet what | am going
TO do; hut think of going out to Egypt with
a friend, ! eave you TO say what YOU like. ]
have said nothing, except to tell Uric that
rad an of r to share in an expedition to
Egypt which thought of accepting Good
bye, my own Viola goodbye.
"GILBERT GASCOIGNE."
Viola, what is the matter? Are you i'll,
dear? Is there bad news? But nO-Ulric
would have told me. What is itT'
tried to nerve myself, to be calm and
composed.
THE matter? Why do you think any.
thing is the matter AnniS?" | inquired.
You turned 50 white. There must be
something wrong, dear, your voice sounds
90 strange. Won't you ten me what it isY'
1 shrank back from the touch of the gen.
tie little hands that were laid on my arm. l
must brace thoughts and feelings; and her
sweet voice brought choking sobs to my
throat.
I mazda IN off 70 cunila a SrbaSflu nffnrt
enough, dare say.
"IIe is going away" | said. He has been
pressed to join some friends who are going
to Egypt"
| could not tell the truth. could not bear
to think he had really left me. lie must
come back.
"Oh, ViOlar' cried AnniS. "Gilbert-Gil
bert-gOing away! | wonder he never told
u.s. wonder if Uric knows But, if he
goes, he will come back to bid you good
bye"
II don't think So"
81 shouldn't like Uric to go off in that
way; but you know men never like a fuss.
| Perhaps it's best, dear. He wanted to go,
and he was afraid you would object, | eX-
pect."
did not answer.
"But am surprised. 1t seems so strange
he should 20 suddenly and keep tquiet like
| this. Poor Violal don't wonder you felt
| rather queer; | know | should il Uric went
| so far awayl But never mind; he will send
| you loads of letters, and bring you back
heap of pretty things"
Later In the day she crOsS-examined Uric.
And do you know dear" she told me,
| colbert had explained to Uric. | fancy it
is a very nice opportunity, and he had
| thought ii better not to let you know till the
| very last. And Uric thinks" she added,
| lowering her voice a little-"Ulrc thinks
| that it is perhaps rather good thing. You
see unces will being so queer put him in
an awkward position. He has nothing to
| do here, and no home; SO Uric says he had
better travel bit until you can get mar
ried."
Does Uric think that was his-Gilbert's
-reasOn?'
Annis nodded wisely.
"And | expect Gilbert told Uric every
thing, more than he could very well explain
| to you, don't you see? And said for my
part" she remarked, with very innocent
| laugh, ''it will be a good thing, because you
| will find out if you really care for each
other. Perhaps you will find sOmebOdyyOu
| like better; Miss ThOrne of the Grange will
have plenty of chances"
| Don't, Annis, please" said huskily.
1.-THE Grange is Glbert's, not mine. 1t will
always be his, whatever do"
| CHAPTER XXI.
| sent Gilbert letter to tell him so. 1t Is
| a hard task for girl to write to the lover
who has misunderstood her and renowned
Il